


all of the astronauts, champagne in plastic cups

by InkCaviness



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Airports, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-24 21:53:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3785626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkCaviness/pseuds/InkCaviness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been a year since they’ve last seen each other face to face; a year full of texts, and postcards, and skype calls at three in the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all of the astronauts, champagne in plastic cups

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe that my first Iwaoi fanfic is actually fluff!  
> Title from "Shooting The Moon" by OK Go

It’s been a year since they’ve last seen each other face to face; a year full of texts, and postcards, and skype calls at three in the morning.

Neither of them have had much time to dwell on it, they’ve both been too busy with assignments and exams, but it still weighs heavily on their shoulders after years spent side by side.

 

(It’s okay, it’s fine. A year isn’t that long. At least that’s what they tell each other once a week.)

 

~

 

On Monday, Hajime wakes up to a text blinking up at him from his phone.

 

_“One week!!!_ (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ _”_

He can imagine Tooru’s face, eyes bright with excitement, and lips stretched into that stupidly charming grin of his. It’s ridiculous; they’re both adults after all. They should be more mature than this, but he knows that nothing will ever stop Tooru from using emoticons in every single message. If he’s being quite honest with himself, he doesn’t want him to stop either. He can’t help but smile at the text and the smile stays on his face all throughout the day.

 

(All of the people he meets that day shoot him surprised looks; he never smiles that much on a Monday.)

 

~

 

Tuesday is slow, drowsy, and filled with too much coffee that leaves stains on his desk. Hajime is idly typing away on his laptop, word after word filling blank pages while time ticks by.

When he hears the buzzing of his phone later in the afternoon, he finds three unread messages.                                   

 

_“THERE’S NOISE OUTSIDE!!!”_

The second message is solely a blurry, dark picture and all that Hajime can make out is a vague shadow and two glowing eyes.

It is followed by a photo of Tooru’s face stark white against the darkness of the background and his eyes wide.

 

_“COYOTE!!!!”_

That caption is the only explanation and Hajime can vividly imagine Tooru’s terrified shriek. The thought makes him snort with laughter and he almost chokes on his coffee.

 

(Tooru doesn’t send anymore panicked texts, but judging by a second selfie of him curled up in bed minutes later Hajime decides that his boyfriend isn’t in mortal danger.)

 

If anyone was to ask he wouldn’t admit it, but he crosses off the days on his calendar steadily moving towards Sunday. The day is circled in red, perfectly cliché, and simply reads “idiot returns”. It’s normal, after all they have been apart for over ten months and even Hajime can’t deny that it gets to him.

 

(There may or may not be a tiny heart drawn next to the note, too.)

 

~

 

On Wednesday evening, Hajime gets an e-mail.

 

 _“My suitcase is too small_ Σ(ﾟДﾟ ) _”_

Attached are several pictures showing piles of clothes and stray socks scattered across the floor around an open, bright-turquoise suitcase. The last one is, of course, a picture of Tooru himself. He seems to be lying among the stray clothes, one hand dramatically pressed to his forehead as he pretends to be fainting.

Hajime grins and shakes his head as his fingers flit across the keyboard to type a reply.

 

_“Quit whining, idiot.”_

It takes only a few seconds for a reply to pop up.

 

 _“So mean, Iwaaa-chan_ (≧ロ≦) _”_

He can’t wait to see Tooru’s pout again and ruffle his ridiculously fluffy hair.

 

(The selfie is his phone’s new background, but no one is going to see that.)

 

~

 

Time is dragging its feet, even more than it did the past months, or so it seems. Only a few more days, Hajime thinks. Only a few days until Sunday, when he will finally see him again.

 

Thursday comes and goes in a haze. The sun shines brightly and the soft smell of spring lingers in the air. On the kitchen windowsill sits a tiny flower pot, painted with a gruesome disarray of colours ranging from pale yellow to cherry red. It’s a miracle that the meagre flower still bears green leaves and occasionally even shows a few pink blossoms. Every other plant that had ever found its way into the apartment had suffered a slow death. No matter whether it were the orchids his mother foolishly entrusted him with last summer or the small sunflower his cousin had deemed appropriate for his birthday two years ago. Not even the cactus from their next-door-neighbour had survived more than six months.

Maybe it was sheer willpower that helped him keep it alive for so long and every time he looks at it a fond smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

He remembers when Tooru had proudly presented the gift to him, his eyes shining with that childish enthusiasm of his.

Hajime softly traces the sloppily painted picture on the clay pot. It shows two little stick figures holding hands as they stand underneath the sun on a broad field. One of them is holding something that resembles a butterfly net while the other one is wearing a shirt with an egg-shaped, green alien on it.

 

(He isn’t sentimental at all, why would he be?)

 

~

 

Friday is normal. They text, of course, but it’s only about trivial things. What Hajime ate for breakfast, what space documentary Tooru is watching on TV at 2 am, what music their neighbours are listening to at a horrid volume.

 

(He wants to see Tooru’s wonder-wide eyes again when he learns new facts about far-off planets. He wants to tease him about the way his hair sticks up in the morning. He wants to make breakfast for him and listen to him complain about the coffee.)

 

~

 

Saturday leaves him giddy and excited, but he can also feel the anxiety building up in his chest. He spends the morning cleaning and bringing the apartment back to a general state of order. All of his clothes are folded neatly and he places his shoes in a line next to the door.

 

Around noon his phone buzzes with a text.

 

_“I really miss you.”_

 

Hajime smiles softly at the message. The year took its toll on both of them, but it didn’t pull them apart, if anything it brought them even closer together.

 

_“I miss you, too.”_

(I miss you. I miss you so, so much and I don’t think you know how much you mean to me.)

 

~

 

As he walks through the airport the next day, he can feel the nervousness return, giddy excitement mixing with nausea and prickling in his fingertips.  He never quite liked airports as much as Tooru, who loves seeing this many different people in one spot, but Hajime still likes to drown in the crowd of people moving forward, he likes seeing people reunite after time apart, no matter whether it’s been days, weeks or years, it’s always emotional.

He buys a chocolate croissant and nervously nibbles at the sweet pastry as he stares up at the arrival board.

 

**Chicago** **: on time**

 

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other for a few more minutes until he’s finished eating. He crumples the paper bag up into a ball and tosses it into the nearest trashcan before he wipes his palms off on his pants and searches for the right arrival gate.

Standing among a dozen other people he briefly wonders if he should’ve written a sign like he’s seen some other couples do, but he quickly dismisses the thought. They don’t need a paper sign to show how much they missed each other.

Time passes by and Hajime anxiously eyes the gate, waiting for a familiar face to appear. Finally he sees the first people exit the gate, whom he assumes to be American tourists and he almost gives in to the urge to stand on his tiptoes to get a better view.

Before he can quite think the idea over he sees Tooru.

He isn’t looking up, too focused on his phone as he intently stares at the screen with his nose scrunched up in concentration.

Hajime wonders if he should call out or walk towards him just as Tooru looks up and meets his eyes.

He’s beautiful, of course he is, he’s always been outstandingly pretty, but the flight has left its traces. His hair is mussed up and dark circles are etched into the skin underneath his eyes. Somehow it all just makes him look even more beautiful, more human.

The smile that spreads across his face only seconds later could light up the whole room. It’s a real smile, not the forced ones that Hajime has seen too often throughout the years when Tooru pretended he wasn't hurting. It’s real, and it’s brighter than the sun itself and it leaves Hajime speechless for a second before Tooru starts walking towards him. There’s a spring in his step that was missing a year ago and Hajime finally wills his own legs to move too.

 

Tooru has a bag slung over his shoulder and it almost slips off as he closes the last distance between them with a swift jump, but in the last second he manages to hold onto it.

He throws his arms around Hajime’s shoulders the second they meet and he can feel Tooru’s smile pressed against the side of his head before he hears his breathy laugh, the kind that makes his chest feel warm and fuzzy. Without a second of hesitation he wraps his arms around Tooru’s waist and pulls him closer before resting his head in the crook of the taller man’sneck.

Until that moment Hajime hadn’t completely registered how much he really missed this, how much he’s missed his boyfriend, his best friend, and he doesn’t really want this moment to end even though he can feel the people around them beginningto stare.

 

“I’m glad to be back,” Tooru whispers and his breath tickles Hajime’s cheek, who just smiles silently and closes his eyes. He missed this warmth spreading through his body all the way down to his toes; he missed the light scent of Tooru’s favourite shampoo that hasn’t changed since they were 16.

 

“I’m glad to have you back.”

 

(The apartment now seems warmer again. The flower still stands in the kitchen, but a few more join it now that there’s someone who actually remembers to water them.

Hajime doesn’t mind waking up to cold feet pressed against his calves half as much as he used to. He gets his revenge by waking Tooru up with fluttery kisses pressed to the back of his neck.)


End file.
